


Tick tock goes the clock

by Hyorangejuice



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyorangejuice/pseuds/Hyorangejuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘t was a real bargain let me tell ya, this is really good stuff, very rare, almost unique!” the box is locked with a padlock, Chanyeol notices only when Steve produces a key to open it. “Just to be safe”</p>
<p>Chanyeol takes another step closer and Steve finally opens the cover revealing what might just be a corpse. </p>
<p>“It’s one of those circus freaks richfucks like so much. He tried to escape, but poor child he didn’t go far” Steve explains. </p>
<p>“He is also dead, Steve” Chanyeol can’t bear to look at the pale face with the deep dark spots under his eyes, yet he can’t take his eyes off. </p>
<p>“He sleeping, not dead” Steve sniggers, “They played God on him a little, poor creature. Didn’t have the heart to put him down though”</p>
<p>It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “How much?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick tock goes the clock

**Author's Note:**

> the title has nothing to do with the story. when i try to come up with one that does i get headaches.

The sun is peeking behind the thick clouds that seem to never leave, the unnatural pale violet of the sky is still as shocking as it was the first day after the Explosion. Chanyeol can’t help but grimace every time he looks up. It’s like he is back to that day, he can hear shouting, honking cars, cracks splitting whole towns in two, the sound of the world breaking. 

It feels almost surreal to be here now, with a bag of groceries propped on his hip and a home to return to. He never thought he’d see a day like this. 

 

On some days he really hopes he hadn’t.

 

But today is good, today he feels fine and today Steve is back in town for his monthly tour. 

Chanyeol already sees it, the old battered van and the equally old and battered man leaning on the hood. He quickens his steps and Steve spots him a few seconds later. 

 

“Hi boy! how have ya been?” Steve asks with his weird accent. 

 

_Better. Worse. I’d rather not be at all._ “Good” Chanyeol flavors his lie with a smile and Steve eats it up. 

 

“Mh… ” Steve sniffs and takes out a cigarette from the front pocket of his shirt. From the state of it, Chanyeol guesses Steve hasn’t been washing his clothes for weeks. Steve makes to offer one, but Chanyeol refuses.

 

“You have something for me?” Chanyeol asks, not too pressing, Steve doesn’t need to know how much Chanyeol dreads and waits for his visits, he still needs that little margin of negotiation.

 

Steve points at the side door of the van with his thumb, a sly smile on his face. “Got some nice things in here, wanna see?”

 

Chanyeol nods and Steve slides the door open, hopping in right after. Chanyeol hikes his bag and sticks his head inside. The van stinks, Chanyeol looks around while Steve takes out his large supply of magic pills. There are a lot of knick-knacks, some electronic stuff, candies, and there is a large, ominous looking box, shoved at the back of the van. It’s metal, there are holes on the sides that look suspiciously like bullet-holes, and Chanyeol can make out a couple of letters painted at the very bottom. 

 

“What’s in there?” he asks. 

 

Steve visibly lights up. “You want to see?”

 

Chanyeol looks at the little bottle in Steve’s left hand, it’s only half full, Chanyeol takes a sharp inhale and nods. 

 

“Yeah”

 

The bottle is set aside and Steve motions for Chanyeol to get in. Chanyeol does and puts his groceries down near the door, he just hopes the stink won’t stick to his clothes or to his food. 

 

“‘t was a real bargain let me tell ya, this is really good stuff, very rare, almost unique!” the box is locked with a padlock, Chanyeol notices only when Steve produces a key to open it. “Just to be safe”

 

Chanyeol takes another step closer and Steve finally opens the cover revealing what might just be a corpse. 

 

“It’s one of those circus freaks richfucks like so much. He tried to escape, but poor child he didn’t go far” Steve explains. 

 

“He is also dead, Steve” Chanyeol can’t bear to look at the pale face with the deep dark spots under his eyes, yet he can’t take his eyes off. 

 

“He sleeping, not dead” Steve sniggers, “They played God on him a little, poor creature. Didn’t have the heart to put him down though”

 

It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “How much?”

  
  
  
  


Steve helps him to drag the box to his jeep and, with a little struggle they manage to load it on the trunk. The bottle, now heavy inside Chanyeol’s pocket, remained half full. 

He drives keeping his eyes ahead, the road is deserted anyway, and he already knows the way to his house by heart. 

  
  


 

 

Chanyeol isn’t sure what to do with the half-corpse he has brought home, but he guesses taking him out of that box is a start. He is light, lighter than any healthy human being of his age should be, his cotton blue shirt is thin and it rips when Chanyeol pulls at it. Grim sticks almost like a second skin to him and Chanyeol almost gags when he has to carry the deadweight inside his house bridal-style. 

He kicks the door open and lays the guy on his couch, dropping himself on the floor right after. Loneliness makes people do- buy weird things, he muses as he takes in the guy’s sunken cheeks and the poor state of his hair. 

 

The silence dawns on him all at once and Chanyeol fingers the bottle in his pocket with longing, but holds himself back, now there is no time for that. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over the back of the couch, he feels lighter, but it doesn’t make him feel better.

 

After settling the groceries into the cabinets he fills the largest pot he can find with water and boils it. He boils enough to fill the tub and the drags the guy to the bathroom. 

His clothes are unrecoverable, so Chanyeol simply cuts them, coming to the realization that the guy is not wearing underwear. He coughs and shrugs off the embarrassment, surprised at his capability of still being able to feel such an emotion.

 

Without his clothes the guy is even more scarily thin. The skin on his ribs looks about to break, so pale it looks almost blue. There are cuts, nite and precise, all over his abdomen, but Chanyeol doesn’t let himself look for too long, he is not sure where this burning need to be respectful comes from. 

 

Chanyeol dips him in the tub, making sure his head stays well out of the shower and then starts scrubbing. 

He scrubs every inch of skin, there are cuts and little scratches littering his whole body, like they cut him up into little pieces and then sewed him back together. 

 

“They fucked you up real good, mh?” 

 

The guy doesn’t answer, Chanyeol puts a hand on his chest and feels the slow beating of a tired heart. 

 

 

 

Chanyeol once nursed a dream of becoming a doctor, how he came to be one it’s one of those stories he doesn’t like to talk about that begins with a ‘boom’ and ends with a pale violet sky. In between there is a seemingly helpless flee, a refugee camp with no means to save all that needed to be saved and the constant need of hands to help. 

He learnt that even the most unlikely things can come in handy given the right occasion. That is the case of an IV and saline solution he packed before leaving the camp. 

 

Dried and clean the unconscious man lays now on Chanyeol’s bed. Now that he can properly look at him, at the almost non-existent rise and fall of his chest, at the unhealthy gray of his skin, Chanyeol asks himself if he really bought a corpse and if he’ll have to dig another grave, feeling dirt and mud under his nails and sticking to his skin. 

 

_Chanyeol-yah, the sun still shines._

 

It comes like a punch right in the guts, knocking the breath right out of him, making him double over with his mouth open and no air going through. His ears ring making him deaf to anything, but the loud pumping of his heart. 

Stumbling he gets to the couch, where he left his jacket. His hands tremble and when he finally removes the cap from the bottle he almost spills all the pills on the floor. He pops two into his mouth and collapses, face first, on the couch. Then he takes a breath, ragged and slow, through his mouth. 

 

It’s not long before sleep crawls under his skin and claims him. 

 

 

 

  
  


-

 

 

 

Day 1 of All the Years After, Chanyeol is laying on the sidewalk right in front of his house. He was running home from school when the Explosion sent all their lives askew. He doesn’t know what knocked him out, but when he gets on his shaky legs and focuses enough he sees that his house is not there anymore. No green windows, no blue welcome mat, no flowers hanging off the porch rail. 

 

Chanyeol throws up right where his mailbox should have been. 

  
  


 

 

-

  
  
  


 

 

Sleeping on the couch was a bad idea, even the floor would have been more comfortable, his back feels like it will never be straight again and his shoulders are killing him. Chanyeol wakes with an headache and decides that he can allow himself a cup of coffee. From the top cabinet he takes out soluble coffee, drops two generous little spoons in a mug and fills it to the brim with clear water. 

Coffee helps him think and a shower wakes him up completely. 

Fresh and awake Chanyeol goes back to his room where the guy still lays asleep. The solution had dried out over the night and Chanyeol hopes it’s not his imagination making out the faint pink on the guy’s cheeks. 

 

“So, good morning” he chirps, untangling the robe from his waist and walking to his wardrobe to get dressed. “I take it you won’t join me for breakfast just yet”

 

He feels stupid, talking to some half-dead guy he bought from Steve, as he pulls on his underwear, but it’s oddly reassuring to have someone to talk to nonetheless. It’s like the tree that fell in the forest, does it really make some noise if there is no one there to hear him? Chanyeol has felt like the tree, alone, out of town and more than once talking to himself, cursing to himself and… it felt a bit like going mad. Stupid is a level above mad. 

 

“I feel like I should introduce myself, I’m Chanyeol” the weather is turning warmer so Chanyeol opts for a light long-sleeved shirt and leaves his thick sweater on the hanger. “I’m sorry, it was rude of me to undress you before even introducing myself”

 

He sits on the edge of the bed and combs the guy’s hair with his fingers, as he takes his pulse with his fingers pressed on his wrist. 

 

“Seems like you are not going to be dead anytime soon, mh?” Chanyeol says with a shaky laugh. “That’s a relief” 

 

Chanyeol keeps talking, about the typhoon that struck last week and they all thought it was the end of the world all over again, ‘that’s post-apocalypse humor’, he explains, then about how much he wishes he could eat a grape Popsicle and about what came over him when he decided to bring home an unconscious guy. 

All the while Chanyeol carefully helps the guy bend his knees and then his arms, getting his joint and muscles to work again. He’s stiff, how long has he been curled on the bottom of a box Chanyeol doesn’t know, but it he bets it was a long time. 

 

“I’m going to fix the backdoor, the typhoon… yeah. Rest some more and… ok… ”

 

Chanyeol leaves the room casting one last look to his bed. He expects it to move any moment. 

It doesn’t. 

 

The backdoor was half-wrecked by the wind, Chanyeol hadn’t time to nail it properly like the rest of the house and that gives him some more nice exhausting work to do. The door lays on the dirt, Chanyeol had finished the typhoon job when the rain had stopped and the wind had calmed down. He laughs, out of nowhere, as he asses the damage and opens his tool chest, He always sucked at this kind of handy-work back in high-school, when his friend had talked him into a bricolage course for extra credits. 

Look at him now, saw, sandpaper, fixing his shit like a grown up. Everyone would be proud. 

 

 

The house doesn’t feel like his, not yet, even if he has been living there for more than a six months already and has no plan on leaving in the near future. Yet it still feels, it still looks like he is on the run, like he will have to pack up all his stuff and run because they are coming… . 

It’s over, he knows, it has been over for a long time, but his body still refuses to believe it, still tenses when there is rustling outside even if it’s just wind passing through his blinds. 

  
  
  


 

 

-

  
  


 

 

Day 30 of All the Years After Chanyeol is folded on himself in the corner of a warehouse trying to stifle down the sound of his choked sobs. They are everywhere, he can hear their steps, heavy on the concrete just a few meters away from him. 

He holds his breath and doesn’t open his eyes until the steps are long gone and he feels like he is about to faint. 

It’s dark out when he crawls out of his hiding place. 

 

 

  
  


-

 

 

It takes about three days until unconscious guy give some sign of waking up. Chanyeol is reading aloud one of the few books he allowed himself to take when he left the city a few years back, when he sees the sheets move slightly from the corner of his eyes. 

He jumps on his chair and scoots over the bed, the guy’s hands are shaking, even if just slightly and it’s the closest thing to awake the guy has been since Chanyeol’s brought him home. The shaking stops when Chanyeol grabs his wrist to check his pulse, but just when he is about to give his hopes up, the guy opens his eyes. They are glassy, unfocused and he winches when they briefly land on the open window. Chanyeol hurries to close the blinds and then sits on the edge of the bed, taking a hold of the guy’s wrist, his pulse is normal, and his skin is warmer than it was that morning. 

He opens his mouth, but only a choked cough comes out, and then another and another, and the guy’s eyes finally focus on him and on the IV coming out of his arm and Chanyeol can see them shift from mildly confused to completely terrified in a split of a second. 

 

“Calm down” he says, placing his hands on the guy’s shoulders, only to send him into another fit that has him shake. “Calm down!” he repeats, louder. 

 

The guy’s breath gets shaky, but Chanyeol has his attention now. “I’m Chanyeol. This is my house and you’ve been here for three days now” 

 

He nods, Chanyeol sighs in relief. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks and reaches for the glass of water he had placed on the nightstand. It was his, but he supposed the guy wouldn’t really mind. 

 

“Slow, ok?” 

 

Half of the water ends up soaked from the shirt Chanyeol had lent him, but a good half gets down the guy’s throat, he blinks a few times and then sets his deep black eyes on Chanyeol, like he expects him to say something, or maybe he is just evaluating him. 

 

“I… can you talk?” 

 

Guy coughs and barely gets out a sound. Too soon. Then grabs Chanyeol’s hand and turns it around and writes on his palm. 

 

Yixing.

 

“Your name?” 

 

Yixing nods and Chanyeol smiles a little. 

 

You found me? Yixing’s brows are furrowed. 

 

“No… well, kind of” is it ok to tell a guy that just waked from a coma that you bought him from a street vendor inside a box? Yixing doesn’t press it, though, Chanyeol is grateful.

 

Yixing points at the IV, he is barely able to rise his arm, Chanyeol notices and he scoots just a little closer, offering his palm. 

 

Thank you. Yixing writes. 

 

“You’re welcome”

 

Tired. 

 

“Sleep, when you wake up you can eat something” 

 

He nods and Chanyeol watches him drift off to sleep. 

 

Yixing’s voice is scratchy, he needs to take a breath every few words, but the company is nice, talking to someone is nice, Chanyeol had forgotten. The first questions are expected, like how he got here, north-west from the absolute nothing, and in the end Chanyeol tells him about the money he had… invested. 

Yixing takes it surprisingly well and when Chanyeol points it out he shrugs. 

 

“I didn’t even think I’d still be alive” he explains, and Chanyeol understands, he understands the feeling very much. 

 

They talk over a soup Chanyeol whisked up from the few vegetables he was able to buy during his last trip to town. Chanyeol has to help Yixing eat, his arm still too weak to hold the spoon for too long without beginning to shake. The frustration is clear in his eyes, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind helping out, and he makes sure to assure Yixing of that much. 

 

“Thank you” 

 

Chanyeol tries not to notice how this time it sounds a lot like a lie. 

 

They don’t talk about Before, nor about what the hell was wrong with the world right after. Chanyeol sits beside the bed and reads aloud, Yixing doesn’t seem to mind and after a while, he falls asleep lulled by Chanyeol’s soothing voice. 

 

 

  
  
  
  
Yixing stands up on his own after a week. 

Chanyeol hovers, ready to catch him, but Yixing looks steady enough by himself and walks back and forth on the porch until he sighs and drops himself on the stairs. He wears a thin blue shirt, it hangs a bit loose on his still too skinny frame. Chanyeol hears him walking around at night, he hears him stumble and sometimes fall, but he stays put, eyes tightly closed and fingers the bottle of pills he doesn't dare to open since Yixing woke up. He started to fear the silence more than the loud humming of his mind. 

 

 

Yixing is breathing heavily, his cheeks are red from the exercise, but he looks healthier, more comfortable in his skin. Chanyeol sits beside him, at a comfortable distance and brushes off some dust from his trousers. It doesn't make much of a difference, those are his work clothes and he hasn't bothered to wash them yet this week.

 

“You don't have any questions?” Yixing breaks the silence. They have been tip-toeing around the subject for almost two weeks now, it's admirable seeing how they managed to avoid talking about something that is everywhere and is so devastatingly present. 

 

“Maybe” he says. 

 

Yixing leans on the rail and looks up, the pale violet sky is sickeningly attractive as it reflects in his eyes, like it could be right. 

 

“I have” 

 

“Go ahead” 

 

Yixing opens his mouth and looks ahead, where the naked trees still stand, and nothing, but a small, sad laugh comes out. 

 

“What does it matter anyway?” he mutters. _The world has already ended._

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Day 1 of all the years after Yixing is sitting on the hard floor of his cell. His hands have been tied together, he is not sure why, but he has been taught not to ask questions. He just offered his wrists when asked. 

 

It doesn't feel like the end of the world. It is just like any other day, but it wasn't. 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol is looking out of the window, he has a cup full of watered down coffee and purple eye-bags under his eyes. When Yixing walks in the kitchen he starts a bit, but hides whatever worried him with a tight smile. 

 

“I was thinking of going in town today, want to come?” 

 

 

 

As they approach the city Chanyeol explains that he sometimes does odd jobs around town and people usually don't give him money, but “ ...stuff, you know, like clothes and food and whatever. Money here is just fancy colored paper”

 

Chanyeol drives with only his left hand on the steering wheel as he gestures wildly with the other. He keeps his eyes ahead and Yixing does the same. He puts a hand out of the rolled down window and feels the wind run though his fingers. There was a song once a boy in his ward used to sing, it reached him through the bars. He doesn't remember the words, but it was about a blue sky and a passing season that weathered, but promised to come back. It's weird how it took the end of the world for him to see that he had always been living inside a cage. It was right in front of his eyes, yet those white walls seemed like the whole world, it was stupid, but he had thought himself to believe it.

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol turns to look at him, his eyes are a little red, maybe it's the wind coming in from the windows, maybe it's that piece of a life they lost that got stuck there and keeps hitching. Yixing smiles, small and unsure. “When we get back tonight, let me tell you a story”

 

“A story? Like a goodnight story?”

 

Yixing shrugs. “You'll decide after I finish telling you”

 

Chanyeol nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He usually leaves his car outside of town, it's just precaution, no one will try to steal it, but old habits die hard. There is an old warehouse that used to host refugees before they became the actual town population, no one goes there anymore, and Chanyeol uses it as his personal parking space. 

When he hides his jeep under an old dirt covered rug, Yixing frowns. “Is the town not safe?”

 

“No, I'm just overly zealous” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Losing count of the days of All the Years After, Yixing only remembers running, as fast as his legs could take him. He didn't notice the sky until he was well out of his cage. 

A bird with no wings and no means to find them, he fell. 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

The story begins with white. 

 

“Shouldn't it begin with _once upon a time_ , or something?” Chanyeol is curled up at the feet of the bed, eyes heavy-lidded that threaten to close any moment. 

 

Yixing shrugs, he is sitting with his legs crossed and absentmindedly plays with the distraught sheets neither of them ever thought of fixing. “Not this one. This one is not really one of those stories”

 

“Is there a circus?” Chanyeol looks unguarded in the pale light of the candle, Yixing has to tell him now. 

 

“Yes, there is. It was big with high tents and acrobats that hung down from silks ropes, flying over the audience. There were also other... things, hidden behind the bright lights and the pale face of the clown that steered people inside”

 

“Sounds scary” Chanyeol chuckles and Yixing crawls down until they are at eye level. 

 

“Maybe it was once, but not anymore” Yixing caresses the wrinkled fabric that separates him from Chanyeol, it feels rough and smells like cheap soap. “You see this” he gestures for the longest scar that goes from his inner elbow to his wrist, it's thin, rosy and it doesn't hurt anymore. Chanyeol reaches to touch it, careful and tentative, like he is afraid it will open up under the pressure of his fingertips. “It was the night I decided to left the red and golden tents behind, there were all these people crowding right out of my cage and they were all watching, I could smell their anxiousness, and expectation and the ring master wanted big tips. So they cut me, the watched me bleed and the crowd screamed and someone threw up and others couldn't get their eyes off the blood”

 

Chanyeol is frowning, maybe he is not even conscious that he is still stroking, soothing, Yixing's scar, up and down his forearm. Yixing smiles, sadly “And in a moment, it wasn't there anymore, it was like magic, but worse and everyone wanted to get a better look, a closer look, and they started asking how, and some said it wasn't possible for a cut so deep and so bloody to heal that easily. Where was the trick?” 

 

And the ring master would shout and beckon people closer to see for themselves, no trick, just pure magic. “But it wasn't magic” Chanyeol's hand stops on Yixing's wrist, he can probably feel Yixing rising pulse. 

 

“Then what was it? If it wasn't magic” Chanyeol's hand retreats and his eyes look a little less sleepy now. 

 

“There was this place once, it was completely white and people there didn't know the sky was supposed to be blue. Most of them had forgotten and others didn't even care, but there was this kid that would always always talk about the sky and he was bright and they all had hopes for him.”

 

Yixing remembers sitting on the concrete of the common room, listening to tales of place he should have remembered himself, but couldn't quite wrap his head around, it had been too long, he was already too far gone, so he dreamed, listened and wished he could will himself to remember just a little. 

 

“It's not a nice story when you think about it... ” probably Chanyeol's own is story is the same, high and lows until a great boom sent them spiraling right out of their comfort zone into a world where not even the sky looked the same. 

 

“He was your friend?”

 

“Sort of... I had been there so long that I couldn't remember anything beyond the walls of the Center”

 

Chanyeol stiffens, even just barely, the candles are dying out and the sun has long since set behind the naked hills. Yixing smooths the creases of the fabric with round motions, just to distract himself. 

 

“There were thousands of us, deep down, under the city, it was like a labyrinth down there and we could barely believe something existed out of our cells, let alone out of the Center” Yixing sighs, closing his fist on the fabric. “Jongdae was different, he thought different and he had an... impulse on us. He made us think, remember, look back on what we had been before... ”

 

Jongdae taught them that song, that one that went like _The sunshine gleams so bright and warm..._

 

“We had a routine and we were taught not to ask any questions. Even when some of us began to disappear and we never saw them again”

 

Yixing can't see Chanyeol clearly now, his face is barely illuminated by the dying light of the candle. It makes him uncomfortable. 

 

“Then is was Jongdae's turn to disappear and when he came back nothing was the same”

 

Chanyeol's fingers reach from his arm, wrapping securely around his wrist. “He had changed?”

 

Yixing shakes his head. “No, it wasn't that. He... he could do things. It had to do with electricity and lightening... we weren't really sure, but he started to say things like what if we tried to escape, what if we were stronger than all of them?” 

 

They remain silent and Yixing is thankful for Chanyeol's grip on his forearm. He knows he is not making much sense, but it's the first time he had to put all of this in a coherent string and he is not sure he can do it just yet. 

 

“Then it was my turn. I was scared, but Jongdae told me not to show them I was, I had to be strong if I wanted to see them all again”

 

_Show them, Yixing._

 

“They drugged me, but not enough for me not to feel anything, I was conscious, but couldn't move... It was so painful... They toyed with DNA and the possible combination with a special sample they had. Not all of their attempts were successful though, they had to find the right subjects or everything would have been vain. Only six of us survived, and then we waited for the right moment”

 

It was the end of the world. Of everything they knew and it was their only chance. “We used our... abilities to escape, we brought out as many children as we could, but I'm afraid what we managed to save was very little”

 

“And the others?” Chanyeol's voice is rougher. 

 

“I lost them. When we managed to get out the streets where complete chaos and I lost them in the crowd”

 

Yixing is thankful for Chanyeol's grip on his wrist, it steadies him in the flow of memories that threaten to drown him. 

 

“We weren't the only ones that managed to get out” Yixing takes a breath. “Those who didn't react well to the DNA implant... they never were quite the same and most of them went crazy and when they managed to get out... ”

 

Chanyeol shudders, Yixing feels it on his own skin. They both know how that goes. 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

_The sunshine gleams so bright and warm,_

_The sky is blue and clear..._

 

 

 

 

_-_

 

 

 

 

 

Yixing is setting the table while Chanyeol is carefully cooking the little piece of _real_ meat they managed to buy on their last trip to town. Both their mouth are already watering and Chanyeol is almost holding his breath as he makes sure not to ruin it by cooking it for too long or too little. 

The bristling of the pan fills the silence along with Yixing's humming. 

 

“I think it's done” Chanyeol moves the pan from the fire and Yixing is instantly at his side to take a look. Chanyeol moves to make room and Yixing fits himself between him and the kitchen counter, leaning over the pan. 

 

“It looks good, oh my god” he slips under Chanyeol's arm and goes to sit at the table looking expectantly at Chanyeol, who smiles and with scientific calculation proceeds t o make even portions of meat. 

 

The first taste is heaven, Chanyeol is about to cry and Yixing's eyes are glassy, but it's laughter that soon follows with the both of them doubled over for no apparent reason apart from being alive and breathing after the end of the world. _It was just the end of the world._

 

“Yixing” Chanyeol is wiping off some stray tears. 

 

“Mh?” 

 

“You ever wonder where they are?”

 

The change is barely unnoticeable, Yixing's lips still sport a slight smile and his eyes are as alive as they were just a moment ago, but his shoulders fall just a bit and his grip on his fork hardens. 

 

“Of course” he answers after a beat of silence.

 

“And don't you want to find them?”

 

“I... don't know” 

 

If the meat goes cold it won't taste as good. Yixing should be happy and Chanyeol should mind his business. But Yixing is not happy and Chanyeol wants him to be so desperately that it burns his throat when he thinks about it. 

 

“I guess I'm just scared of what I'll find” Yixing speaks slowly, carefully, like he did when he first woke up. “What if they are mad at me for not looking for them? What if they didn't make it and I could have... ”

 

Chanyeol still has the vivid image of the huge hole in the ground that once was his house right in front of his eyes he could never forget something that is carved inside his soul. Should he feel blessed that he was held back after class? Should he feel lucky? Should he feel guilty? Should he be angry? 

He looks at Yixing and wonders at what exact moment Yixing goes back every time he thinks about those he has lost, and what questions haunt him. Probably they are more alike than they think. The end of the world is funny like that, brings together people in the strangest of ways.

 

“I think they'd like to see you” 

 

Yixing's smile is weak. “Maybe” is all he says before he goes back to his food.

 

 

 

 

There was a number Chanyeol used to call every time he stopped long enough to actually look for a functioning phone. On the other side a worried voice urged him for information. _Are you well? Did you eat? Where are you staying?_ _Is it cold?_

Chanyeol always answered dutifully, always putting more cheer in his voice than what he felt after driving for days alone in a world he could barely recognize looking for a place that probably didn't even exist. It was a selfish whim that put him on an old rusty Toyota, with his back to everything he came to rely on to see himself what was left. 

Six month since he last called, willing himself to stay right where he was, right where he chose to stay and not rush back. 

The once FamilyMart is the only place with a working phone. It was turned into a bar when it was clear that, especially after the end of the world, people were still going to need a drink. Chanyeol hasn't been there often, just when the pills ran out and Steve was nowhere to be seen. He is not a fan of the burning sensation of alcohol, he doesn't want to feel his own cowardice run down his throat, he just wants to forget. 

When he walks in the old woman behind the counter greets him with a nod of the head and a crooked smile. 

 

“I need to make a call” he says dropping himself on one of the stools. “But I think I'll need a little push” he smiles, lopsided and greasy, like he knows she likes. 

 

“Coming right away” she singsongs grabbing a glass from the shelf and a bottle from under the counter. 

 

Chanyeol drowns the inch of whiskey in one go and winches at the aftertaste. The woman smiles and points at the phone with a knowing expression, he has seen Chanyeol hunched over the rusty thing enough to know that alcohol is not the only push he needs. He smiles thanks and she shoos him, _later_ she smiles. 

 

It rings five times. When someone answers Chanyeol holds his breath. “Hello?”

 

“Joonmyeon-hyung?”

 

Warmth and nostalgia and the faint smell of disinfectant. 

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

Late night talks and watered coffee and shared cigarettes. 

 

“Yes, it's me. Sorry for not calling earlier”

 

Don't want. Can't. Shouldn't.

 

“No... how are you?” 

 

“Fine, I'm getting by. I made a friend”

 

The relieved sigh makes him laugh. “I'm happy... Yeah, are you eating?”

 

“Yes, we cooked meat the other day. I need to ask you something hyung”

 

Joonmyeon is probably looking for somewhere to sit, frowning when actually looking around he realizes the mess hat reigns in his office and promises himself to clean up soon. “Tell me”

 

“It's my friend, you see, he wants to get back in touch with these friends he has lost... ”

 

“Mh... ”

 

“There should be five guys, one of them is called Jongdae, with about twenty kids kids. Since they are so many I thought that they really don't go unnoticed and I was wondering... ”

 

“If I knew anything?”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Mh... there was this guy, I don't know if it's one of those you are looking for, but he brought a kid, a girl, about twelve years old, with a bad cold. They live in a house near the river, the old condominium with the red bricks. From what I got they had traveled a long way to find a doctor to look at the kid”

 

Chanyeol nods. “Yeah, I know the place”

 

“He was tall, a bit on the scrawny kind, baby face... he said to call him Han”

 

“I'll ask my friend if he knows him”

 

“I will send someone to check if they are still living there”

 

There is a pause and Chanyeol knows it's his time to ask, _How are you? Do you think of me? Do you miss me?_ Yet his lips are sealed and he can't move. 

 

“Here we are all fine” Joonmyeon hyung always smiles when he lies. Chanyeol knows that he is not now, he can hear it, he has that crease on his forehead, the one that makes him look old and sad. “Don't worry, ok? And say hi to that new friends of yours for me, ok?”

 

“His name is Yixing” Chanyeol says. “If that Han is still there ask him if he knows someone named like that”

 

“Sure thing”

 

“I'll call you back tomorrow, ok? Around this time”

 

“Yeah, until then” 

 

As he listens to the line go dead, Chanyeol is thankful that he won't go back to an empty house. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They are out on the porch stargazing that night, Yixing squints, but can't really make out anything but a bunch of twinkling lights. Chanyeol himself has never been good at this kind of stuff, so he shrugs and they just point out whatever shapes they can make out. 

 

“I went to make a call during my break today” he says, still looking up. Yixing shifts a little closer and Chanyeol drags him the rest of the way. “You are freezing” he scolds when he feels Yixing's cold skin under his hands. 

 

“You made a call?”

 

“Yeah, to an old friend, he is a doctor and works in a sort of hospital. I asked if he knew anything about five guys going around with a bunch of kids and he said that there was this guy that brought a little girl”

 

Yixing squirms out of Chanyeol's embrace, lifting himself on his elbow to look at him. Chanyeol's hand runs comfortably on Yixing's back, it's something he never thought he'd need again, human touch, but Yixing is... 

 

“And?” Yixing whispers.

 

“I don't know if it's who you are looking for, but my friend said his name was Han, or at least he told him to call him that it could have-... ”

 

Yixing opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Chanyeol bites on his bottom lip and would like to explain that he did it because Yixing deserves the sun and the best smiles and the last cookie in the jar and Chanyeol wants to give him all of that but he only has this much left and it's not sure it is really worth anything. 

 

“He could be one of them” it's the only thing Yixing says, but Chanyeol understands, when Yixing curls closer and molds himself into his side.

 

Chanyeol sneaks his arm around Yixing's waist and he hopes Yixing understands too. 

 

 

 

Chanyeol isn't surprised to find Yixing already awake the morning after, with a mug of coffee firmly gripped between his hands and a distant look in his eyes. He is sitting at the kitchen table and smiles when he notices Chanyeol, in all his bed-head glory, standing at the door.

 

“I made you coffee, but it's already cold”

 

Chanyeol shrugs and slips on the chair next to Yixing, carefully taking the cold mug from his hands with a thankful smile. The coffee is not only cold, but also a slob, Chanyeol tries to drink it with the least tongue contact possible, but drinks it anyway because Yixing actually tried to do something for him and it would be really ungrateful of him to dump it in the sink. 

Yixing is also absentmindedly playing with the hem of Chanyeol's old sweater, the faded blue one, it looks good on him, Chanyeol thinks as he takes another sip of coffee, a small one, just to make sure it is really that bad or it was just a first gulp shock. It wasn't.

 

“Did you catch any sleep?” 

 

“A little, but I had a lot to think about”

 

Never one to waste coffee Chanyeol drowns the rest in one go and tries not to gag. “How about I take a shower and then we go?”

 

Yixing nods and takes the mug, going to wash it in the sink. Chanyeol watches his curved back for a moment, there are no more than three steps between them, yet Chanyeol feels like he is crossing an ocean as he walks them, going to place his hands on Yixing's curved shoulders, feeling the protruding bones under his palms. It's odd how close they have been in the past few weeks and how only now their closeness feels intimate, as Chanyeol paces his forehead right between Yixing's shoulder blades. 

 

“It's going to be fine... whatever happens, ok?” he murmurs like a spell between the creases of worn fabrics. 

 

Yixing's hands come to rest on his and they squeeze. “Thank you”

 

 

Yixing stands awkwardly behind Chanyeol as they step inside the FamilyMart, the old lady smiles and beckons them closer. 

 

“Another push?” she asks, winking.

 

“No, this time I don't need it” Chanyeol shakes his head and steers Yixing towards the telephone booth. If he notices her knowing smirk he doesn't comment on it.

 

It takes a little longer for Joonmyeon to answer today, at the ninth ring Chanyeol almost hangs up, but Joonmyeon's frantic voice greets him. “Chanyeol?”

 

“Yes, it's me. Do you have any news for me?” Yixing is biting on his bottom lip so hard Chanyeol fears he is going to draw blood. 

 

“I managed to find the guy. They were about to live, but I convinced him to wait a day more... I don't know if it's who you are looking for, but he is her, now, with me”

 

He looks at Yixing and motions him to come closer. “Joonmyeon-hyung says the guy is there with him, do you want to talk with him?”

 

Yixing looks unsure, but then nods and Chanyeol scoots over to make room. “Joonmyeon-hyung, my friend here would like to talk with him, if that is ok with him”

 

“Yeah, sure”

 

As he hands over the phone Chanyeol wishes with every fiber of his being that this one is that one time in a million that movies and miracles are made of. Holding his breath he watches Yixing whisper words in the receiver, he holds his breath until Yixing's shoulder sag and he clutches at his chest. 

No, Chanyeol thinks, this is unfair, this not ho it was supposed to be. 

But then Yixing closes his eyes and sings, out of tune and stuttering a little and Chanyeol, finally, takes a breath, deep and relieved, surprising himself into a laugh. 

Yixing turns to him with teary eyes and a stupid smile on his face. Chanyeol would hug him, but stays still, waiting for Yixing to finish. 

 

“So it was really him?” Chanyeol asks once they are out and heading back to the jeep. 

 

“Yes, Lu Han, he said they are all fine and the kids are growing and...” he looks jittery, and laughs, looking at Chanyeol like he can't believe it. 

 

“I'm happy for you”

 

“I never thought I'd see this day. Thank you, Chanyeol, really, I don't know what to say... ”

 

Chanyeol scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “I didn't really do anything. It was just a very lucky coincidence”

 

Yixings beams at him, making his heat swell and his throat constrict. He tries to smile back with just as much enthusiasm when he says “So I guess you'll want to go see them”

 

“Lu Han said that they might move to the city since things are beginning to settle down and I don't know... ” 

 

“Cool” Chanyeol coughs. “In the next town down south there is a functioning train station... that's how I got here. There is like, a train every week, but it's the fastest way to get... ”

 

Yixing clears his throat noisily, cutting Chanyeol off. He has an amused smile on his lips. “I was thinking more of a... road trip” he looks pointedly at Chanyeol who gapes and smiles at the same time and he probably looks stupid, but he doesn't care, honestly. 

Not when Yixing stands on his tip toes to hug him breathless.   


End file.
